Molehunt (17 page)

Tired by now, Anneke decided it was definitely time to return to her quarters. So she feinted back, slumping slightly as if afraid, then sprang up and launched a double snap kick: one foot slammed him in the chest and the other in the face. He went down. Few men could stand a direct blow from Normansk-bred leg muscles.

Things onboard didn't improve after that, except that no one bothered her directly. The mood was venomous, though it did prompt the captain to fix the cooling. Meanwhile, Mobus stomped around, scowling, one of his eyes blackened and swollen. Personally, Anneke thought he would look better with a patch anyway.

A day out from the space station the crew went on strike. The captain, an employee of Fat Fraddo, was between a rock and a hard place. On the one hand, the crew wanted Anneke dumped through the airlock. On the other, if the captain complied with this, Fraddo would roast him slowly over a hot fire.

‘Tough one,' she told the captain, who came to see her, anxiously wringing his hands.

‘What am I going to do?'

‘I'll tell you what you're
not
going to do,' said Anneke evenly. ‘ You're not going to dump me out the airlock.'

Help came from an unlikely quarter. Eight hours out from Reema's End privateers attacked them.

Klaxons blared and the ship's onboard AI computer broadcast the general order to man battle stations automatically. But the order came too late. The privateer ship had neutralised the
Meteor's
sensors and come within cable range, locking onto Fraddo's ship with magnetic grapples.

The privateers unleashed a bush robot swarm that opened the locks on a docking hatch, and boarded the ship. By the time Anneke reached the mess hall the attack had moved to hand-to-hand combat. Pulse pistols, strong enough to take out a man but not strong enough to damage the ship's hull, hissed as the
Meteor
's crew fought it out. Some had tasers, with clips of five hundred compressed-gas bursts, and barbs with microsensors and body-recognition software. Privateers lay twitching on the decking, yet the boarders were gaining ground.

Anneke charged into the fight, cracking skulls, crushing throats and breaking bones. RIM training, combined with her inherited strength, gave her the edge. She went through the cabin like a lethal blur, and when she got to the other side there were no privateers left standing.

Anneke moved to the main passageway where the privateers had crew members pinned down with pulse fire. As she crouched behind a bulkhead, Mobus tapped her on the shoulder.

‘Come with me,' he said.

She followed. He led her down a side corridor where he prized off the hatch cover, giving them access to the ventilation shaft.

‘After you,' Anneke said.

Mobus hauled himself up into the shaft. Anneke followed him through the ventilation system, coming out near the forward docking port. They then made their way through the back passages to a section behind the privateers.

The rest was easy, and within an hour they had rid the ship of privateers. After that, the crew no longer wanted to throw Anneke overboard.

They docked at Reema's End several hours late, with the pirate vessel intact. There the station security relieved them of the privateers that were still alive. Privateers were as good as hard currency to people with connections. Their vessels were traditionally sold for scrap and parts.

As Anneke disembarked the crew cheered her. Mobus, sheepish and suddenly awkward, told her any time she needed something all she had to do was call. Solemnly shaking hands with her, he informed Anneke she was now an honorary member of the
Meteor
crew.

‘You need a ship, you let me know. We're connected. You know?'

‘Don't think I won't take you up on that,' she replied. ‘I might need one here.'

Soon after she was lost in the crowd that swarmed ceaselessly about the station's concourses and decks.
Reema's reputation
, she quickly decided,
is well deserved
. A bigger collection of cutthroats, thieves and murderers she had never seen. The only puzzling thing was the lack of violence. It was as if a strange code of behaviour operated. Perhaps the knowledge that every third person was a killer with a price on their head kept people on their best behaviour.

Whatever it was, people were actually polite.

Anneke found an overpriced hotel and took a room, using an alias and her fake datapass. According to her documentation she was Astrid Eleto, an arms dealer. Anything less would have given her no cachet.

From there she started exploring the station, checking out the bars and markets. Here her startling good looks got in the way; men wanted to chat her up or else they distrusted her on sight. She simply didn't look like everybody else there, she didn't look
hungry
: hungry for money, for power or for anything that gave an edge. Nobody wanted to do business with her.

She was at an ‘outdoor' cafe sipping a local brew when Mobus dropped into the chair beside her.

‘You want a drink?'

‘No, I'm fine,' she said, indicating the cup of
kaj
she was half way through. ‘But you have one.'

Mobus nodded, ordered himself a
kaj
and gulped it with what seemed like relish.

Guess it's an acquired taste
she thought.

‘Nobody talk to you,' Mobus said with his characteristic directness.

Anneke sighed inwardly. News travelled fast in these places and she had no doubt that the crew of the
Meteor
had some idea of where she came from. She hoped that after their bonding experience with the privateers she could count on their discretion.

‘You hit it, square,' Anneke said.

‘Talk to acquaintance of mine. He's Quesadan, but he's straight. Jinks Heller. But fast. Leaving. Two hours. You go now, dock eighty-eight, main bay.' Mobus flashed Heller's face on a holocard then quickly slipped the card away.

He finished his
kaj
and stood up. She thanked him.

‘You all right,' he said and disappeared into the crowd.

‘Well, I guess I do have a fairy godmother after all,' Anneke murmured to herself. ‘Some godmother. Some fairy.'

She found a directory laser stencilled into a nearby wall and located main bay, dock 88. Piece of cake. But then a rarity happened. She got lost.

She ended up in a corridor in Xix Town, a place full of lowlife, ferals and drifters. She guessed she must've taken a left instead of a right, or maybe it was the other way round.

Either way she walked in on something ugly.

An overweight bald man was lashing a young girl with a wire-tipped whip. Each stroke left weals of fine cuts on the girl's flesh. She was about nine years old. Asking no questions, Anneke wrenched the whip from the man's hand, slammed him into the wall, then laid the whip across his throat like a garrotte.

‘I'd think twice before doing that in future,' she whispered in his ear.

The man squirmed. ‘She is my property!' he gasped. ‘You do not interfere!'

Anneke pressed harder, digging the whip further into the man's skin until his Adam's apple bobbed. She released the whip and the man fell to his knees, gagging. ‘The kid's no longer yours,' she said.

Anneke went to the girl who was cowering on the floor, curled up tight so as to present the smallest area of flesh possible. Hunkering down beside her, Anneke stroked her hair.

‘It's all right now. He isn't going to hurt you. My name's Anneke. I want you to come with me, okay?'

The girl risked a quick look at Anneke, then looked again, as if she couldn't quite fit Anneke's appearance into this place and time or indeed into her world at all.

‘It's okay. I'll protect you.'

The girl's eyes suddenly widened and she ducked her head. Anneke had been expecting it. She flung herself sideways and spun, kicking out her left leg as she did so, sweeping the man off his feet. He had been holding a hunter's knife. As he fell, he twisted round, his head smacking into the cobblestones.

Anneke picked up the knife. Noise at the entrance to the alleyway made her look up. Several people had gathered there. Ugly murmurs were starting up around her. Two men pushed their way through the small crowd. When they saw the comatose man and Anneke standing there with the knife they cried out, reaching for weapons in their tunics. Anneke didn't wait to find out what kind.

She sprang at them, a blur of motion. She dropped one with a palm strike to his solar plexus, leaving him gasping for air on the ground, and disarmed the second man as his needler came whipping out. A moment later Anneke had the man's weapon pointing at him. He made an odd sucking noise with his open mouth.

‘Back off,' Anneke warned. The man took a stumbling step backwards. No one argued with a needler. Anneke jabbed a thumb at the comatose man. ‘He passed out. No stomach for fighting. If you want trouble, you've found it.'

The man shook his head slowly, his eyes not leaving hers.

Anneke returned to the girl's side. ‘I'm taking the girl with me. Spoils of combat.'

The girl was still in shock and quaking with fear. Anneke picked her up bodily and got out fast, taking care not to turn her back on anyone. She still had the needler, a persuasive argument in her favour.

She found a medical centre for the girl and paid a stiff fee to see a doctor immediately. The doctor was a woman in her middle years with greying hair and a clucking maternal manner. The girl slowly uncurled her little fist of a body when she realised nobody wanted to hurt her. She now sat on the edge of the examining table. It was clear she had never been to a medic before, giggling when the doctor inserted an ultrasound scanner in her mouth.

After having performed a detailed examination of the girl and running her blood through the DNA scanner, the doctor concluded the girl was in good health – just malnourished, lacerated and bruised.

Anneke took the girl to her hotel, bathed her, ordered clothes from a local shop and had food sent in.

‘What's your name?' Anneke asked when the girl, now clean and wearing a neat outfit, had licked her plate clean.

The girl looked at Anneke with large almond-shaped eyes, the colour of polished jade. ‘Deema,' she said. She seemed surprised that anyone would want to know her name. ‘Are you my new master?'

‘No,' said Anneke, ‘I'm not.'

Deema's eyes dropped and her lower lip quivered. Anneke reached out and gently lifted the child's face so she could look into Deema's eyes. ‘Listen to me, Deema. You don't have a master anymore. You're free. I'll look after you until we can sort out a guardian for you.'

‘Can't I stay with you?'

‘With me?' Anneke stared at the girl, startled, not knowing what to say. Obviously, Anneke couldn't take responsibility for a child. She had enough trouble looking after herself.

‘We'll see. I think for now you need to get some sleep.' She gave the girl a small dose of
n-doze
and put her in the main bed. When she was sure the girl was asleep she set up a protector field around the bed, one that only she could unlock. Satisfied, Anneke hit the streets. She still wanted to find Jinks Heller though he had probably already departed the station.

She reached dock 88, main bay, twenty minutes after Heller's ship had left. She cursed softly, trying to decide what to do next. Maybe Mobus had more contacts.

As she emerged from the main bay two black-robed figures stepped in front of her. One raised his voice and shouted in a sing-song voice, ‘Bear witness, that on this day a challenge is made to one Anneke Longshadow who stands before me now.' He repeated this three times then bowed to Anneke, handing her a parchment-like sheet. On it was the formal challenge from the Assassins' Clan.

A security guard wandered up and Anneke handed him the parchment. He read it carefully, asked to see the assassins' IDs, and then shrugged.

‘It's legit, miss. Fully paid up. All nice and airtight. Says here you're also known as Astrid Eleto?'

Anneke ignored the question. ‘They're allowed to do this?'

He shrugged again. ‘They got kill-rights.' He studied the parchment again. ‘Seems you owe them some stolen property, namely a slave child. That's what they're claimin' anyhow. Yep, it's all legal. Nothin' I can do, miss. Good luck.'

‘Wait a minute,' Anneke said, turning to the two cloaked men, ‘when do we … do it?'

‘As the target, you get to choose. Only it's gotta be in the next twenty-four hours.' They stared at her from under their hoods.

‘So any time starting from now?' Anneke considered her options.

‘You got it.'

‘Okay,' she said.

She struck like a snake, twist-snapping the neck of the man who had sung the challenge, and then she spun, pile-driving her foot into the throat of the other. Both flat-lined within six seconds.

‘Is that it?' she asked the open-mouthed guard. ‘Can I go now?'

The guard blinked several times, then nodded slowly.

As Anneke walked off he finally found his voice. ‘Oh, miss?'

Anneke turned. ‘Yes?' she asked, expecting a sudden change of heart.

‘About that stolen property …'

‘Yeah?'

‘Well, it's yours now. You just inherited a girl.'

Anneke stared. It was her turn to be speechless.

Back at the hotel she found Deema sitting on the edge of the bed, wide awake and hyperventilating. Anneke voice-deactivated the stasis field and sat down next to her, putting an arm around her. The child flinched away instinctively.

‘It's all right, Deema,' Anneke crooned, stroking her hair. ‘I'm going to look after you.' Even as she spoke the words Anneke knew it was true. She could hear Uncle Viktus's voice in a recess of her brain:
Life is messy, Anneke. So embrace it. Never walk away from responsibility. If you do, you'll remain a perpetual child
…